


the proof is in your moves and your grooves

by AndreaLyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn's not sure what he expected out of Rey's bachelorette party, but a stripper named Pole D (who's one of Jess' best friends, apparently) is not something he could have ever planned for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the proof is in your moves and your grooves

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics come from Hawksley Workman's _Striptease_ , which is an excellent song to listen to while writing something like this

“Rey, _why_?” Finn wants to know, searching for some kind of logic in a sea of insanity. 

When he’d signed on to be Rey’s man of honor, he really hadn’t expected to have Rey end up taking over her own plans for her bachelorette party. Not to mention, he’s confused about why Rey’s chosen to go to a strip club when it’s not exactly like she’s ever requested to have strippers brought in. And Finn should know, because that would’ve been his job. “It’s not like that,” Rey’s protesting as she leads Finn to sit down in the front row.

It is a bit weird that most of the people in the strip club are Jess’ pilot friends and Rey’s friends from the aeronautic engineering program and not strangers. Finn’s the outlier of the group, having been Rey’s friend since childhood and just got in from a cross-country flight to join in the pre-festivities before Rey and Jess get married.

“Jess and her friends have been working very hard to put on this night for us,” Rey lectures with an amused smile on her face. “And having seen some of Jess’ work on the pole, I’m madly looking forward to what’s in store for tonight. Besides, I’m sure you’ll find something to enjoy tonight too,” she adds cryptically.

“So what am I supposed to do? I’m your man of honor. I thought I had responsibilities,” Finn protests as an announcer delights in welcoming ‘Juicy Jessica’ to the stage.

“You do!” Rey promises, even if her attention hasn’t been on Finn since Jess started to tease with the little silk robe she’s wearing, moving to the music. “You’re going to bring me drinks for the rest of the night and make sure you stay sober to drive us home.”

Okay, well, at least she’s not commanding him to get up on top of a pole and start shaking his ass. Finn wouldn’t even look half bad doing that, seeing as he’s got a devoted workout regimen that keeps him in good shape, but he doesn’t think he can do whatever acrobatic feat Jess has managed to contort her body in on the stage.

The music pulses loud and heavy while Jess works through her routine, getting progressively less dressed (until she’s only wearing a gold bikini) and working progressively closer to Rey with every passing second.

Finn sets a whole tray full of shots down on the table beside them, figuring that’ll buy him at least twenty minutes. Rey doesn’t even hesitate before going for the first, second, and third shots, her eyes never leaving Jess as she drinks. Given that Finn’s the designated driver, he gets to look forward to a whole night of being the lone sane figure in a field of madness with only a soda in his hands to get him through.

“Get off the stage!” Snap shouts when Jess has progressed to giving Rey a lap dance. “We got a new act coming in.”

Rey’s eyes light up and she leans over to slap Finn on the thigh. “This!” she says sharply. “This is what you need to pay attention to!”

He kind of loves Drunk-Rey. She’s not usually one to hide her emotions, but her with alcohol in her system is like ramping the whole thing up to a hundred and Finn _loves_ watching the unfettered joy on her face or how she presses her fingers to her lips as if in disbelief and wonder. He’s so busy looking at her that he doesn’t register the next dancer until the announcer is booming his stage name over the PA system.

“Give a warm welcome to Pole D,” the announcer says, and the crowd just goes wild. True, it’s all Rey and Jess’ friends and they’ve been drinking heavily, but Finn’s not sure why this one guy merits this much applause.

He stops wondering when the act comes out, short-circuiting Finn’s brain a little. He only faintly realizes that his mouth is hanging open and he’s staring at the man. _Pole D_ , or whatever his name is, starts strutting on stage with easy confidence, hips swaying fluidly as he stares down the crowd with a look that begs ‘come fuck me’. He’s wearing a sleek, shiny black button-down untucked over a pair of sinfully tight jeans. On top of that is a gorgeous leather jacket, tanned and well-used (well-loved, for sure) and Finn’s pretty sure that on top of the slicked hair, the guy is wearing eyeliner. His feet are bare as he walks, winking his way down the catwalk at the various friends in the audience. 

“Where’s the flight suit?” Jess boos in disappointment. 

“Saving it for my own stag,” the stripper shoots right back. 

“Please tell me those are tear-away jeans,” Snap begs, actually leaning forward with both hands clasped together. 

The stripper winks at Snap and slides onto his knees in front of him, pelvis thrust forward as he moves his palms over his chest and leans back, obscenely working his lower lip over with his tongue as he rocks his hips up in time with the music. He slowly rolls his shoulders back so he can let the jacket fall back before he slides those broad and calloused hands over the seams of his pants. “Baby, for you? Never,” he replies, sliding back to his feet easily to return to his strutting, ripping open his shirt when he gets to Rey and Jess. 

Rey and Jess actually _scream_ right in Finn’s ear.

“Okay, no more alcohol for either of you,” he says, leaning forward to steal the neon-colored shots away from them. He’s settling back in his seat when he glances up and finds Pole D looming above him, his gelled hair starting to fall over his forehead in loose locks. His shirt is a mess, buttons missing and revealing a pair of abs that Finn kind of wants to touch.

He’s not even drunk and he’s thinking about pawing the stripper – and worse, it’s one of Jess’ friends, so it’s not like he’d ever live it down.

“Who’re you, handsome?” The guy practically purrs at him.

Finn gapes up at the man on the stage above him. The thumping bass beat of the music around them should be a distraction, but he’s kind of only focused on the fact that from here, he can see the bulge in Pole’s pants and it’s taking all his self-control not to ask if that’s because he’s happy to meet him.

“Finn, I’m Finn,” he calls. “I think you’re supposed to be dancing, not flirting with me.”

“I can do both. My teachers always said I was excellent at multi-tasking. I’m Poe,” the stripper says, hooking his thumbs into the beltloops of his jeans as he moves his hips in slow figure-eights, getting lower and lower until he’s on his knees and at Finn’s eye-level. “Rey told me she had some handsome friends, but she never said just how good looking you were.”

_Funny, because she never mentioned her strip-talented gorgeous friend either_ , thinks Finn. He swallows the lump in his throat when Poe runs both hands through his hair, stretching his neck back and causing a few rivulets of sweat to slide down that tanned skin.

“Fuck,” Finn bites out, trying to ignore the way Rey and Jess are laughing beside him – all curled up in some pile of happiness that’s making Finn obscenely jealous. He notices that Poe’s jacket is on Rey’s shoulders, so she must have caught it like some weird bachelorette bouquet, but Finn’s kind of distracted by the fact that Poe is currently grabbing hold of the pole to do some very flexible things with it.

Rey shifts and climbs out of Jess’ arms to plop herself down beside Finn. “Poe’s one of Jess’ best friends,” she informs him. “And you’re exactly his type. He needs a good man.”

“Please tell me that doesn’t mean boring.”

“Finn, you couldn’t be boring if you tried.”

He may not be boring, but he’s pretty sure that the half-naked man who’s currently upside down and holding onto a pole with just his strong calf wrapped around it is probably way too exciting for him. Still, there’s a degree of thirst that Finn’s feeling right now that he’s not sure booze would ever solve.

“I’m only here for your wedding,” Finn reminds her, not really looking at Rey because Poe’s sort of hypnotic and when he squints, Finn notices that there’s definitely glitter all over Poe’s chest, like someone’s smeared their lucky, lucky hands all over Poe’s bare skin and those well-defined abs. He thinks he can pick out fingerprints and his jealousy ramps up to embarrassing levels. “I have to fly back next week.”

“What a coincidence,” Rey says in that sweet, conniving way that means it’ll be no coincidence at all. “I booked that flight and I happen to know the pilot taking you back home on his regular route.”

Finn furrows his brow and stares at her, then back to Poe, then at Rey. The club around him is going wild with wolf-whistles and idiotic delight as Poe sings along to the music, moving his hips hypnotically as he works his jeans loose and kicks them out into the crowd. Finn hopes that Poe had meant to do that, because they end up landing right on Finn’s head.

Finn drags them away and gapes up at the black boxer-briefs Poe’s wearing that don’t leave much to the imagination.

“You’re welcome,” is all Rey tells him before she presses a kiss to his cheek.

She goes back to her soon-to-be-wife, leaving Finn to squeeze Poe’s jeans like a security blanket and wonder if Poe’s the kind of pilot who’s a fan of the mile high club. He calls over a waitress so he can order a drink for Poe to enjoy gets it the minute he gets off stage (and tries to ignore the way the waitress mutters, “get in line”). With that secured, he settles back in his seat and watches Poe finish his act, heading backstage to change.

Finn’s busy talking to Jess and Rey about the wedding day plans when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Peering upwards, he sees dark curls and the crisp collar of a white button-down. And there, just slightly, is the faint trace of silver glitter where the shirt dips open.

“Thanks for the drink,” Poe says warmly, saluting Finn with the glass of neon-colored _something_. “So, how’d you like my little show?”

“Well, the pole part of your stripper name was definitely accurate,” Finn says, reaching for his glass of water to take a sip. 

Poe grins as he leans in so that his lips brush the shell of Finn’s ear when he speaks. “I’m looking forward to proving that the D part is, too,” is what he murmurs in a low, seductive tone.

Finn chokes on his water.

Three hours later, in a hotel room, he chokes a little on something else, but he’s more than happy to confirm that Poe is _not_ guilty of false advertising in any way whatsoever. 

And when the wedding is said and done, Rey and Jess have put away their dresses and gone on their honeymoon, Finn finds himself sitting in the cockpit of the passenger plane watching Poe do his job, wearing his pilot’s uniform (that sadly does not just rip away) and wondering whether he’s allowed to ask how long the autopilot can take over for him.

(The answer is one hour and twenty-seven minutes before Snap comes back to complain about stealing his co-pilot and catches Finn with his pants down and Poe on his knees looking up innocently)

Finn’s pretty sure that no one else in history can say that their stripper wound up flying them home from their best friend’s wedding, but he’s seriously not complaining if Poe’s hands, mouth, and body are some of the benefits he can look forward to getting used to.


End file.
